Yours Truly,
by B. Jinxed
Summary: It takes a stranger and a comatose patient to convince her to move on, but is she ready? [Rated M for themes that may cause some to be uncomfortable]
1. The Report

**Hey all! This is my first FanFic that I am posting up here. It's been a work in progress for about three years now and I would like to get back into writing it. Hope you enjoy. **

* * *

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_Magic Matches Incorporated wishes to thank-you for returning your personality report so quickly, and we were very pleased when it came in as detailed as it was. The following is a run down on how our services work._

_Your personality report has been entered into our system of over one thousand witches and wizards and soon the perfect match will be made by one of our many specialized personality analysts. Your core values, interests and the rest of the information you filled in about yourself will be taken into account in assuring the success of your future relationship with your match. Compatibility is our number one priority. _

_Once the match has been made, an owl will be assigned to the pair of you, at no extra cost of course. The owl will be able to track you, no matter where you are, this so that your letters reach you. This also allows you to keep in contact without revealing information about your whereabouts, or any personal information you wish to remain in confidence. Magic Matches Incorporated will never disclose any information regarding your match to you, or vice versa, unless otherwise stated on the report we received. It is of your own free will and judgement that you and your match share intimate details about yourselves._

_In keeping with the second point, you and your match will use the nicknames you have chosen for yourself on your personality report. It is your choice to reveal your true identity. (If you feel at all pressured by your match to reveal yourself, please report him or her to us at once.)_

_If, for any reason, you do not feel that you and your match are compatible you have the right to owl us and revoke the match at no extra cost to you. If you wish to resubmit your report for another match, please feel free to do so. A record of unsuccessful matches will be kept on file to allow us to more accurately match you in the future._

_We would like to thank you again for your prompt reply. If you have any questions regarding our services or if you would like the status on our progress of your report please feel free to owl us and we will gladly help you in any way you can._

_Yours Truly,_

_Glenda Hashward_

_Founder, Magic Matches Incorporated._

* * *

Hermione sat at her quaint kitchen table, mug of tea growing cold in front of her. She was trying to burn holes in the letter she'd received, not ten minutes previous, with her eyes. Hermione Granger had not, and had certainly never even thought about, sending a personality report to the horrid match making company. A small sigh escaped as she touched her wand to the cup to warm it again.

After pushing a couple of stray hairs from her face, Hermione looked up from the letter for the first time since she had received it. The morning light shone in through her kitchen windows and she faintly heard the chirping of a bird off in the distance.

_It's going to be a glorious day, he would have loved this. _

She let her mind wander off, a small sad expression on her face, though it did not take long to return to the letter before her. Of course she knew who had sent it in for her. No one knew her better, and no one else had more guts, than her best friend Ginny.

Hermione tried to stay calm, knowing well enough that Ginny was simply worried for her. She had not been herself since the accident involving Ron; Hermione knew that both she and Ginny missed the old her, the real her. Hermione was slowly growing worried for herself, though she would never admit it. Not out loud at least. Hermione cleared her throat, and head, it had been a while since she allowed the memory of her beloved Ron to enter her mind. She had become very good at suppressing the hurt.

Another sigh escaped the brunette as she reached for her tea and drank greedily, burning her tongue in the process. She grunted and slammed the mug now, spilling the liquid over the piece of parchment. Hermione, being the tidy person she was, cursed to herself as grabbed the tea-towel that sat a foot away from her and slowly mopped up the mess she had made. Hermione, since Ron's accident, had grown more temperamental and slowly became easier to aggravate; much to the dismay of her close friends and relatives. They knew, though, why it was so; all of them shared the pain of losing him.

As calmly as she could, Hermione reached forward to grab a piece of parchment and a muggle pen; she found them to be more efficient than quills. Quickly, not bothering to allow the pen to leave the paper, she scrawled seven simple words.

_Ginny,_

_Get your arse over here now._

She stood, knowing that her words would get the red head over in as much time it took to say "Butter beer". Hermione grabbed the note and headed for her bedroom where her owl was perched, his head under his wing.

"Sebastian." Hermione cooed to the mid-sized snowy owl Ron had gotten her only three years previous. "I've got a letter for you to deliver." She finally roused him with soft caresses and the bird shook himself out before presenting her with his leg. She fashioned the note to him, before smiling and patting him on his head. "To Ginny please." She cooed, offering a small owl treat as she did so. Sebastian happily took it before spreading his wings and soaring out of the bedroom window.

She watched the bird until he was out of view, when he was she turned to her wardrobe; she did not want to be wearing her night clothes when her friend arrived. After picking a pastel green, v-neck sweater, a pair of dark washed blue jeans and simple black flats, she moved back to the kitchen. The clock above the arch told her that it was just past eight; Hermione knew that Ginny would be awake. She always saw Harry off to work, and she had two small boys; James, who was five, and Albus who had just turned two. Hermione grabbed her lukewarm tea and stood looking out of the kitchen window. The rolling hills of the countryside amazed her, and she knew Ron loved them too; that was, after all, the reason they bought the quaint cottage. That and it was only a few kilometers from The Burrow, Ron's beloved place of residence for the majority of his life.

A squirrel ran into the brunette's view and she could not help letting her lip twitch upward into a slight smile. Nature had always had that affect on her, no matter the mood she was in.

_How simple the life must be. I wish I could just run, not a care in the world. _Hermione's eyes glazed over as the simple image of her taking off passed through her mind. A few moments passed her by.

She was not certain when the squirrel disappeared, but her mind let go of the thought when she heard the fireplace in her living room roar with the arrival of her guest. The pattering of feet sounded. They were running toward her, shouting the nonsense that they tended to. Before Hermione turned, she shook her head and smiled. She never let the children see her while she was not smiling.

"Auntie Mi!" James called, running toward her, wrapping his arms around her legs. She broke away only so she could turn and crouch to his level. Albus was quick by his heels and soon the two boys had knocked her on her behind, nearly smothering her with hugs. It seemed as if they had not seen her in ages when in reality it had only been a little over a week.

Hermione couldn't help but smile genuinely, it was hard not to; the children's happiness was infectious. She had not realized how much she had needed the hug before they arrived. When Ginny entered the room brushing the ash off of her clothing she gave Hermione a small, knowing smile.

"All right boys, let your dear Aunt get up." Ginny chuckled, allowing them time to give their Aunt a kiss on the cheek each before getting up. "Go play in the garden. But be sure to stay where we can see you." She called after them. They had taken off the moment she uttered the word play, as was customary for all Weasley children. The small red head huffed and sat in the chair Hermione had been in when she read the letter.

"Why did you call me over?" Ginny chewed on her bottom lip, hoping nothing was too terribly wrong. Of course she knew something was bothering her friend, the note gave it all away; it was written haphazardly, and that wasn't like Hermione. For the thirteen years she had come to grow a friendship with her, Hermione was always tidy. And she always took care to make sure people could actually read her letters.

Hermione grabbed a mug from the cupboard, started the kettle and turned to Ginny. "Magic Matches Incorporated?" Her voice was calm, though her eyes suggested that she was not so happy under the surface. Ginny simply sighed and noticed the letter from the company, still slightly soggy from Hermione's spill, beside her.

"'Mi, sweetie, I had to do it."

"You absolutely did not have to do anything of the sort, Ginny." Hermione's voice grew hoarse, a sign of upset that Ginny had grown accustomed to within the previous two years.

Ginny stood, moving to her friend. She took hold of her small, shaking hands and looked into her friends honey brown eyes. Concern was flooding Ginny's face.

"Hermione, look at me." Her head moved in sync with Hermione's when she tried to look away. "Harry and I are both worried about you. We think it's about time, you know, to move on." Ginny felt the burn of threatening tears in the back of her eyes, she knew that Hermione felt them as well. "It's been almost two and a half years." Hermione opened her mouth to retort but Ginny kept on speaking, her voice sounding as if she was scolding one of her boys causing Hermione's eyebrows to knit together. "You spend all of your time at work, or here at home. When we do finally get to see you, as little as we do, you look much older than you are." Ginny sighed, looking defeated. "Hermione, you are draining yourself. You deserve to be happy; you know that is what he would have wanted for you."

"I am fine. And, as a matter of fact, I very well know how long it has been, Ginny." Hermione snapped after Ginny finally stopped talking, and she pulled her hands out of Ginny's.

The brunette found everything her friend said to be absurd; though it was not that far from the truth. Hermione had lost quite a bit of weight and the sparkle that had touched her eyes even throughout the war. Her demeanour had changed from well groomed to slouchy and uncaring. Hermione had stopped living life when Ron lost his, she found herself simply surviving, and truth be told had started to scare her.

The kettle began to howl and Hermione turned, grabbed the pot and poured the boiling water into the mug whilst throwing a bag of chamomile tea in with it. A few tears fell down her face, and she sniffed after wiping her burning brown eyes on her sleeve. "I was there, remember?" The brunette attempted to stifle a sob, to no avail. After a few more failed attempts she stopped fighting it and everything finally flowed freely from her.

Hermione cried, though somehow she managed to hiccup and the words she had been avoiding since the accident spewed from her lips like vomit. "I-It was m-my f-f-fault."

The kettle slammed down on the stove element, the tears filled her eyes and spilled out as if she had never cried before. Groans filled the kitchen; somewhere in the back of her mind Hermione was thankful that the redhead had sent the children to play. Hermione felt Ginny's arms around her then in an instant everything went away. Hermione felt nothing, saw nothing and did not even hear the soothing words coming from her friend. The tears no longer burned her eyes and after a while the hoarse cries hardly phased her throat. Hermione had gone numb; completely and totally numb. A shell of the woman she once was.


	2. The Memories

**I had not planned on posting this chapter as well today, but I couldn't help it. As I only have two more chapters written out right now, they will be uploaded less frequently (with a few other of my stories) until I have a back log of more chapters. Hope you enjoy! **

* * *

The promise of the new day's warmth cast its light toward a bed in the suite, causing Hermione's eyes to flutter open slowly. A small, sleepy smile broke over her face as she eyed the sleeping male beside her. Ron's hair was splayed around his head, looking something like a halo of fire upon his pillow; Hermione had to hold in a fit of giggles so that she would not wake him. His face was relaxed, innocence had stolen the dark days of his job as an Auror with the Ministry and for that the brunette was grateful. Hermione propped herself on an elbow, as gently as she could so she did not wake the sleeper beside her.

Heaving a content sigh, Hermione gave her face a rub with her free hand hoping to rid her mind of the sandman's hangover, it worked a bit and she smiled through a small yawn. Finally, she sat properly and the large comforter fell from her chest. Her back rested on the head board, allowing one last peek at Ron's sleeping figure.

With the last few sleep bunnies leaving her brain, Hermione knitted her eyebrows together in thought. A quick glance from her boyfriend to the side table confirmed her theory. She grabbed a hair tie and pulled back the notorious brown bush out of her face. Carefully, Hermione slid out of the bed. Slowly her mind reminded her of the previous night. Ron had come home late, Hermione figured from a pub, but she had been sleeping already. He'd woke her up, told her to pack a bag because he wanted to take her away for a few days. Of course, sleeping Hermione complied without question.

_Oh he must have known that I wouldn't have asked any questions if I was half asleep!_ Hermione smiled again, unable to be mad about the situation. It was rather unlike Ron to be spontaneous, but when he was it was good. She attributed the suddenness of his decision to be a result of his head injury. During her training as a healer, Hermione had seen quite a few patients who she treated with an injury to the head who family claimed had acted impulsively and not quite themselves. After recovery, though, all the patients' family and friends reported them to be back to their normal ways. Hermione was not complaining about the spontaneity, of course, it was a nice change of pace from their normal routine.

Hermione allowed herself to look around the suite for the first time. It was lush, extremely inviting with its soft beige and deep blue colour scheme. The sleigh bed they had slept on was adorned with silky blue sheets and the large quilted comforter of midnight blue was strewn haphazardly near the sleeping feet of her dear Ron. There were two armchairs on the other side of the room, near the fireplace, flanked by two full book cases; Hermione smiled and walked gingerly over to them, taking in as many titles as she could. The books did not hold her attention for long, a flash of light caught her eye and she turned toward it. The French doors that lead out onto the veranda glistened with the morning sun and Hermione made her way over to them quietly, stealing a quick glance at the still-sleeping Ron. With that last glance, she decided that he would be sleeping for at least a while longer, allowing her plenty of time to snoop more and figure out where they were.

The scene that greeted her when she turned back to the doors was not at all anything she expected. Instead of the rolling hills surrounding a quaint bed and breakfast somewhere in the middle of nowhere that she was thinking about, Hermione stood on the porch of a fifteen story luxury hotel in the middle of Paris. Hermione gasped, the Eifel tower stood just beyond and it felt as if she could reach out and touch it. A small wave of newly found affection rose in her gut, Ron knew she'd always wanted to go to Paris. A choked laugh ran from her throat and a hand was raised to her mouth.

"What do you think?" Ron's voice seemed to float towards her ears from somewhere behind her, and she soon felt his arms around her waist. He placed a kiss on the back of her neck before resting his chin on her shoulder to take in the view. "Well?" Hermione heard the smile in his words.

"It's beautiful!" Hermione turned, buried her face in his chest and threw her arms around his neck. "Thank-you, Ron!" She looked at him, eyes twinkling up at the handsome face of Ronald Weasley. They both grinned as Ron bent his head for a kiss which Hermione happily returned. A small sigh escaped her as she turned around to take in the sight again.

"I figured we might as well get away, considering I don't have to work for another few days." He nuzzled into her shoulder and he took her in as she took in the view, both of them enjoying their respective treats.

"You didn't have to do this Ron." Hermione was glad, for the vacation and the location, but she was worried about the cost. "It looks so expensive." There was a dreamy quality about her voice when she spoke. She was not entirely asking Ron to divulge any information about it; she was simply stating her observations.

"Of course I did, I love y—." Behind her, Ron tensed slightly and a small groan of pain washed away the sentence he could not finish. Hermione turned quickly to face him once more, a concern flooding her expression.

"Have you taken your elixir this morning?" Her brows knitted themselves together as she chewed on her lip.

"No, it tastes too... ugh." The thought of it brought an obvious shiver over Ron.

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh, her hands in the air. "Well, if you expect to be going back to work then you need your rest. That is, after all, why they gave you the time off." Hermione began leading him back to the bed. "You need to recover, and that is what you are going to do!" She sat him on the bed and began rummaging around their toiletries bag for the elixir. "Aha!"

Ron made a face as Hermione stood holding the phial of amber liquid. She made a move toward him and he shook his head vigorously. "Come on, Hermione. I feel fine! Really. My head it –." He tried to hide a grimace as he scooted back towards the headboard. "It doesn't hurt anymore, honest." Ron faked a smile, though from the look on Hermione's face he knew she wasn't playing with him. He sighed; his shoulders slumped and then frowned slightly. Ron knew he would not win that particular battle.

The brunette drew closer to her boyfriend and he began to whimper. "Oh Ronald, it isn't that horrible! I took it while I was training." She scoffed.

"Now then," Hermione smirked as she stood over him. "I am your healer and you will do as I say or else." Ron raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth to say something. Hermione was two steps ahead of him and raised the phial to his lips, causing him to drink the thick liquid.

Grinning wildly, Hermione placed the empty container on the bedside before pushing Ron onto his back. He made another face, slightly pouting. "Get some rest or you will surely hear it." Her grin never wavered. "All right, I'm going to take a shower. Sit back and relax will you?"

Ron's eyes lit up at the prospect of a shower. "Want some company?" He smirked, distaste of the elixir completely erased from his mind.

Hermione shook her head. "Take a nap or I'll have to resort to some dirty methods of taming the sick Ron." The brunette smirked and raised a brow, as if daring him to continue. "Now then, I'll be back before you know it." The woman placed a kiss on her boyfriend's forehead and she could see that his eyes were drooping slightly from the elixir already. She smiled when Ron began to mumble. She could have sworn that he had said something about not bringing his mother into the situation, and that he would listen more. A small giggle escaped as she bounded off towards the door on her side of the bed. Luckily for her, she didn't have to explain "dirty methods" to Ron because he knew after years of experience that it either concerned his mother, or worse Ginny. Even worse than Ginny, though, was pregnant Ginny.

On a second thought she spun on her heel and changed direction in one swift movement and Hermione made her way back to the nearly sleeping Ron. She bent to kiss him on the forehead when she reached his side and by the time she stood up again his eyes were almost drooping to a close, seemingly too heavy for him to hold up any longer. "Let the sleep take you, my love. You will feel better faster than you can say Albus Dumbledore."

Ron's lips started moving in another bout of protests but the only sound that Hermione could recognize were tired groans and slurred mutterings. Hermione couldn't help but let her heart melt and she softly brushed a tuft of hair away from his eyes. She made a mental note to give him a haircut, sooner rather than later. A small chuckle escaped as she imagined the conversation that happened every time she proposed the cutting of his hair.

Of course, Ron would argue that cutting his hair would be emasculating; Hermione, in turn, would retort that she did not want her man looking like a vagrant. Though, of course, there would be quite a bit of fuss and worry. By the time she finished he would be pleased, as he always was because Hermione had become quite good at cutting hair. After all, during school she gave them to all of her friends, and them during her healer hours, she was the resident cutter for those unable to go to the salon. It was their routine, even in their Hogwarts years. A soft breath from Ron signalled that he was almost soundly asleep, not more than a moment later another occurred and told her that he would begin snoring momentarily.

With one last glance at his sleeping form, Hermione turned her attention from Ron and toward the bathroom door again on the other side of the bed. For the brunette, there was nothing quite like a nice warm shower in the morning, then curling up with a good book for awhile. Ron would be out like a light for a good hour and a half or more, which would allow the elixir to work itself into his body without the stubborn man fighting it every step of the way. Hermione smiled as she skipped to the loo. Her job was done for the moment, and that meant she could have a nice long and relaxing shower to wash away the rest of the sleep that was still hanging around in her brain.

* * *

The black slowly faded from the brunette's mind but still the images of her beloved Ron hung in her mind's eye for what seemed like ages. As her vision cleared, Hermione saw something she had not expected, as she believed that Ginny had left hours ago.

"Gin, what-" The woman's voice was husky with something similar to sleep and almost as soon as she spoke a sharp pain ripped through her head. Hermione groaned and placed a hand on her head, and hard, hoping to push the pain away with sheer power. "What the heck happened?" Another groan rumbled out of her as she attempted to sit herself up.

"I don't think so, missy." Ginny said gently, placing a firm but loving hand on her friend's shoulder to keep her from getting up. "You took a nasty fall, sweetie. I may not be a fancy healer like you are, but I know when someone should not move after fainting."

Ginny's words confused Hermione for a moment but allowed herself to be pushed back down. After a moment, Hermione noticed that she was staring up at the ceiling of her kitchen. More confusion followed when the woman attempted to remember what had happened. She closed her eyes again, hoping that it would allow her to think, but nothing came to her.

"Making tea!" She said suddenly, startling Ginny in the process.

"Oh good, you've definitely gone mad then." Ginny replied, a small sigh emitting the red head. "Maybe I should call a healer. You've hit your head harder than I thought." The woman moved to stand over Hermione where she had been kneeling but she was stopped by a cold hand on her own.

"I haven't gone mad, Gin. I just-" Hermione groaned slightly as she attempted to sit again, this time succeeding. "I just remember that I was making tea. Rather, that is the last thing I remember. You came over because I was mad at you for sending the personality report in for me." As she was remembering, Hermione had regained some of her anger from before but she knew that it was done and there was nothing she could do about it. It wasn't as if she was going to waste her friend's money; that and the fact that it was time to move on, as much as she hated to admit it but it was true.

The grief was killing her, slowly but surely it was. Hermione did not want to become a husk, a shell of her former self. Change needed to take place, and it was not going to happen without some help.

Ginny sighed and helped Hermione to her feet slowly, and then into one of the kitchen table chairs so that they could talk on the same level. "I really am sorry about that, sweetie. I was not just me, you know, I could never fill one of those out all by myself."

"Selling out your husband now are you? I figured you a harder break than that, Ginny." Hermione smiled at her friend, placing her head in her hand for a moment. "Really though, it's fine. I know you all want to see me happy. You guys went through so much trouble. I suppose I can give it a shot." The woman gave her friend a small, unsure smile. It was clear that Hermione regretted the words as she spoke them, but if it helped then so be it.

Ginny smiled sadly at Hermione. "It really is for the best you know. And besides, you never know what will happen, right?" The woman said, attempting to be reassuring for both of them.

Both of the women stood from their respective chairs and hugged. Ginny lingered a moment, holding Hermione by the shoulders, before turning to the kitchen door. Flashes of young boys went past their vision and both of them chuckled slightly. Ginny opened the door and called for them to come inside.

"How long was I out for?" Hermione asked as she watched the boys come barreling in from the yard. The majority of their clothing was dirtied, but it seemed as if Ginny had already assumed this to be true because she had her wand at the ready. As they passed her, she waved her wand and with a silent incantation she cleaned them up nice and proper. While she did this, though, her face was twisted in thought.

Ginny opened her mouth to say something, thought better of it and closed it again. Quickly, she began ushering her children towards the fireplace with Hermione at her heels. "I don't think it was very long. Ten minutes, give or take a few." Hermione eyed her friend as she readied the children in the fireplace before turning back to Hermione. There seemed to be something that she wasn't saying and Hermione wanted to know.

"What is it?" Hermione knitted her eyebrows together, hoping Ginny would reveal what was bothering her all of a sudden.

"You were saying things. I don't exactly know what but you were talking to yourself, or someone. And it scared me for a while, you know." Ginny looked distressed, her eyes sad and afraid for her friend. "Maybe you should see a doctor, okay? Just to check out your head. I don't really know if you were dreaming or if you hit your head the wrong way. I just don't want the same thing to happ-" Ginny stopped talking almost as soon as she realized what she was saying. The red head shook her head causing her hair to fly around her face. Tears welled up in her eyes as she backed into the fireplace without another word.

"I'll get it checked, okay?" Hermione herself had tears in her eyes and she placed a hand over her mouth so that she wouldn't break down right then and there. That was the closest they had ever gotten to talking about the way he passed, and it tore a new hold in both of their hearts. Ginny nodded slowly before grabbing a handful of floo powder and telling it that she wanted to go to The Burrow. A burst of green flames enveloped the three bodies and Hermione made a point of waving at the smiling boys with a sad smile of her own.

When she was sure they had gone and she was no longer at risk of the boys seeing her Hermione fell against the wall behind her and cried for a good long while. After what must have been at least an hour of painful sobbing, Hermione picked herself up and slowly made her way to her beloved tub.

_A nice long soak is just what I need. _She hummed the words in her mind as she walked, as if they were the only things keeping her upright. And soon enough, Hermione sank beneath the hot water filled with apple scented bubbles, willingly closing her mind off to everything but the relaxing bath. The only other thing she needed was a nice tall glass of Firewhiskey.

* * *

Mere hours later, Hermione simply sat in front of her fireplace. She had managed to drape a robe about herself after leaving the tub, and curl herself into the smallest shape she could muster after igniting a fire. With the floo effectively turned off, Hermione enjoyed the eerie silence of her cottage for a long while. When her and Ron had first acquired the place there had always been some form of chaos happening; whether it were a member or two of the Weasley family stopping by for tea, children running about or just simply Hermione and Ron being together. But now that he was gone, so was everything else. She was alone, and everything was quiet save for the crackling of the logs.

Hermione felt her eyes begin to droop, though she did nothing to discourage the need for sleep. It had been a hell two years for her without Ron. Hermione took it wherever she could get it. Unfortunately for her someone felt otherwise and the tapping of an owl on her sitting room window was to blame. The groggy female stood, rather unsteadily, and allowed the bird access to her home. Expecting the owl to want for a treat, Hermione gave it a bit of a wave before slowly moving to a treat jar though when she turned from her spot, treat in hand, the large bird was nowhere to be seen.

In its wake, though, it had left her a neat red envelope in the middle of her coffee table. It certainly looked all too familiar to her. Cringing, Hermione waited for it to begin. The Howler seemed to stare her down for a moment until it transformed and the usually loving and motherly voice came out in a torrent of shrill cries.

"HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER! YOU HAVE A LOT OF EXPLAINING TO DO, YOUNG LADY!" Mrs. Weasley's voice boomed about the room, gaining another cringe from the brunette woman. "GINNY TELLS ME YOU ARE NOTHING MORE THAN SKIN AND BONES NOW! WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU ATE A PROPER MEAL? YOU MUST BEGIN TAKING CARE OF YOURSELF BEFORE I COME OVER THERE AND DO IT FOR YOU. TRUST ME WHEN I TELL YOU THAT IS NOT SOMETHING YOU WANT FROM ME AT THIS TIME." The envelope seemed to hang in the air, paused in its torrent before continuing in Mrs. Weasley's normal voice. "Ginny has informed me of everything, dear, and we want to help you if you'll let us. Please come home to see us. Everyone misses you terribly."

And with that The Howler was no more but a pile of scrap paper on her floor. The woman dove to clean it up by hand, if only to save herself from crying yet again. Not long after, Hermione was back curled up in front of the fire, where she slept though the whole night for the first time in nearly two years.

* * *

**PS: the whole story will not be this depressing, I promise.**


	3. The Patient

Hermione's mood had seemed to brighten after that fateful Sunday morning, whether it was talking to Ginny or hearing how much Mrs. Weasley cared for her from the Howler, she did not know. Regardless, she was grateful.

The first half of the week seemed to pass nearly uneventfully. It neither sped by nor crawled as weeks tended to do more often than not. Hermione did her rounds, spoke to the patients under her care and simply went through the motions without anyone really noticing. That, too, seemed to happen a lot in her life. With the war and the initial shock and awe of their exploits behind them, nobody seemed to intent on keeping up with the lives of those teenagers that saved the world. Hermione did not mind in the slightest, but was always slightly irked when her own co-workers took no notice of her. Sometimes she suspected that it had something to do with her transferring and being promoted to ward head within six months of the other. She couldn't blame them much; sometimes the shadow of Hermione Granger could stretch pretty far.

It was late Wednesday night and Hermione was finishing up with her rounds before she could head home. The last patient that needed checking was a peculiar case and had been in Hermione's care nearly a year. All of the healers that had looked the woman over were absolutely dumbfounded to the cause of her condition; and nobody could get a straight answer from her family as to what had happened. Many of the healers and mediwizards had theories as to how the woman got the way she did, Hermione on the other hand did not care for such speculation. Every chance that she got, Hermione looked over the woman's file hoping that she could find the answers everyone was looking for. She would pour over it for hours, but nothing ever changed within it.

"Good evening, Mrs. Malfoy. Sorry I could not come by your room earlier, there was a few things I needed to do." Hermione said towards the comatose woman lying nearly motionless in the bed in the middle of the room, all the while smiling. Of course she knew that there would be no response, there never was, but it was Hermione's job to take care of her patients and that is what she did. Slowly and surely, Hermione had noticed an increase in activity since Narcissa Malfoy had been brought into her own private suite. It was nothing that was noticeable to the untrained eye, but she knew that the woman in the bed was fighting to break free of whatever held her in her state. "Some of the mediwizards had a scuffle and, well, it was not pretty that is for sure." Hermione granted herself permission to let out a small chuckle, as if she were sharing a joke with a good friend.

Hermione grabbed the wand from her pocket and leaned over the woman slightly, looking into the unseeing grey eyes of the blond haired Malfoy woman. "Time to check you out, okay? Make sure everything is working as it should." The healer leaned back from the woman and was about to start the check. Hermione had gotten quite used to the quiet of the ward after most of the staff left for the nights; it was partly the reason that she requested a transfer from the emergency ward. That and it had only been a few months since Ron had passed and she could not stand to live those moments over again.

"Is it normal that you are talking to someone that cannot answer you?" A husky voice broke Hermione's beloved silence from somewhere behind her and it caused the woman to spin around, wand at the ready in her usual defensive position. Hermione had nearly jumped through the ceiling when the voice rang out but with her wand raised and ready, she let her eyes take in the sight before her.

Disheveled blond hair and piecing grey eyes, a small sneer and an all-around simply haggard Malfoy was standing in front of her. The button up shirt he was wearing seemed to be three sizes too big and was buttoned improperly. Hermione was unsure whether or not he had tried to put a tie on, as it looked as if his collar was unsure of what it was doing, half of it standing at attention and the other half lying flat against the man's neck. Malfoy wore simple black pants and scuffed shoes that looked as if they had been well loved, as Hermione liked to classify worn things. When her brain caught up with the sight her eyes took in she noted that he did not look good, it was plain and simple that he had not taken care of himself in quite some time.

"Are you going to put your wand down some time in this century? I would like to see my mother." The man drawled, straightening himself from leaning on the door jam, his notorious sneer plastered onto his sunken and shadowed face. His words finally registered and Hermione had to hide a small squeak of embarrassment as she lowered her wand from in front of her; she kept it close at her side though, her grip tightening with every second.

Still a little embarrassed, Hermione turned back to Narcissa. "Sorry, Mr. Malfoy." She said through semi-clenched teeth, it was all she could do to not spit the name. "I was not aware that you were visiting today. It has been a while and we were not sure when you would be back again." It strained her to talk, but she found it slightly more comforting directing her voice towards the comatose woman in front of her.

Malfoy moved closer as Hermione straightened up the bed spread. "I've told you not to call me that. My name is Draco, and I would rather not be reminded of his name any more than completely necessary, thank-you." Draco ran a hand through his golden hair, making it more unruly than before and then he continued. "Life has been busy, unfortunately, but I am here now." The tall male took up his mother's hand on the side opposite of Hermione. He seemed not to be interested in her presence anymore, and for that Hermione was thankful.

"I will be done in a moment. Last check before I head out, and then you can have your time together." Hermione raised her wand over the woman and waved it up and down the length of the body for a few moments, all the while shooting quick and –hopefully- sneaky glances at the blond man across from her. "And there we go. All done Mrs. Malfoy. I will see you in the morning, okay?" The healer leaned a little closer to the woman, once again looking into the unseeing eyes, hoping as always for some reaction. Hermione knew they would get there one day, but that day was not it. Hermione placed her wand into her pocket and began to fix the covers around the woman's shoulders as she knew that it would be cold in the night. "Good night, Mrs. Malfoy." She turned and began walking slowly to the door. "Good night, to you too, Mr. Mal-" She cleared her throat, hoping she would be able to say it. "Draco."

"Wait."

The simple word caused Hermione to stop in her tracks and turn slowly toward the sound. Half expecting him to be facing her when she turned around, Hermione let out a sigh of relief when she realized that he was still looking at his mother.

"How has she been doing?" After a few moments Draco finally lifted his haggard face to look at her which caused Hermione to look down to the blond woman on the bed. Thankfully he had not noticed and continued in his low voice, as if talking any louder would walk her up. "You know, since I have been away?"

Hermione swallowed and took a deep breath without making it obvious, well that is what she thought anyways. Either way, Draco showed no signs of caring if he had noticed. "She has been getting better, slowly but it is happening." Hermione took a few steps toward the bed and stopped a few feet away from the foot of it, all the while attempting to avoid his gaze. There was something hauntingly creepy about the way Draco looked; she simply could not stand it. She had seen a slight decline in him within the first few weeks of his mother's admittance but after not seeing him for two and a half months she had noticed that it was a lot worse than she originally suspected. "She missed you though."

Out of her peripherals she saw his face contort in confusion, making him look more ragged than before which she had not thought possible.

"How do you know that? Has she spoken?" His voice was urgent, and the man stood up to nearly his full height making him at least two heads taller than Hermione. His intense eyes burned holes in the side of the brunette's head untill she finally looked at him.

Hermione shook her head slowly, her eyes all but glued to the tortured eyes of one Draco Malfoy. They gleamed with a sadness that she had grown accustomed to since his mother's admittance, but with the addition of his haggard outward appearance Hermione could not help but feel scared. And, as far as she was away from admitting it, she felt a twinge of sympathy for the man.

"No, but you are her son. Wherever she is right now, I know she has missed you." The brunette turned again, hoping that she was finished but her heart fell when he spoke again. His voice was soft, as if he was afraid he would wake up someone and they wouldn't be too happy about it.

"You never answered my question."

"Which one was that?"

"Do you always talk to your patients?"

Hermione cleared her throat and felt a flush creeping up her cheek bones. She wasn't sure how much he had caught of her talking to his mother but knew the damage had already been done. "Yes, all the time actually." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest defensively, simply waiting the abuse that would have ensued had they been in Hogwarts. Draco simply stared at his mother, quietly thinking, while he held onto her fragile hand.

"Why?" Draco finally looked up from his mother once again, not really seeing her but nevertheless Hermione felt as if he saw everything. "It isn't as if they can respond?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "I am well aware. But I think if the situation were reversed, I would like to know that I was cared for and-" She paused, unsure of whether or not to continue. When Draco said nothing but looked at her, seemingly expecting an elaboration, she sighed quietly. "There has been some research –muggle research- that comatose patients are more likely to wake up and remember people talking to them and some of the things that were said. I don't want any one of my patients waking up with nothing to remember, I don't think that would be right." Hermione said with a shrug, hoping beyond hope that Draco would let slide the muggle methods of her work. Draco said nothing but sat as still as a statue, he seemed to think about what she had said.

Slowly the brunette backed out of the room, not completely trusting Draco to turn her back on him. Although she knew that he was preoccupied with his mother, there was no telling what he was capable, especially when he was in obvious distress. Before she had a chance to censor herself, though, her mouth was open and she was speaking from the open doorway.

"You should try it. I'm sure she would rather hear your voice instead of mine." And with that Hermione completely ducked out of the room, not caring if the haggard man looked up or responded. As quickly as she could, Hermione made her way to her office that was only a few meters away. Once in the safety of her office, Hermione released a rush of air that she had not realized she was holding. Soon enough after, though, her face became hot and all sorts of things ran through her mind.

She was angry, with herself and with him. Hermione was only proud of the fact that she had enough self-control to talk to him without killing him.

_I said his name, his first name! _The thought made her want to hurl, but before she could do so, she locked the door to her office and grabbed her coat and purse. Quickly turning on the spot, she felt the familiar tug at her naval and was glad to know that it settled her stomach; which was saying a lot, since Hermione had never really taken too well with apparating. Hermione thought of home, of her little cottage in the country side and was relieved to find out that, a moment or two later, she had arrived in one piece.

Hermione threw her coat and purse somewhere into the living room as she moved into the kitchen. She headed for the kettle but soon as she touched it her eyes fell onto the bottle of Fire Whiskey that she almost never touched. After grabbing a tumbler and blowing the dust off the bottle of alcohol she sat at the kitchen table, a look of something far from relaxed on her face.

Thinking back only an hour previous, she saw his face, his eyes and shivered. _I'm not going to get any sleep tonight. _She rubbed her face with a chilly handand downed a shot of the fiery liquid, attempting to burn away the anger and pain seeing him always caused.


	4. The Invitation

**Hey everyone! Just a quick thank-you to those of you who have begun following my story! I really appreciate it. Now, this is the last chapter that I have pre-written so there may be a few day gap before I am able to upload another. Please leave some reviews if you can, just so I know what you are all enjoying about it so far. I know it is quite slow moving at this time but I assure you that it will pick up soon enough. Hope you enjoy. (:**

* * *

After a night of suspected nightmares and very little sleep, Hermione awoke for the umpteenth time to a pair of odd owls tapping at her bedroom window. Once they saw her awake and moving about they stopped their tapping and waited patiently for her to let them in. Hermione figured, seeing as how sleep had decided not to visit her that night, there was no better time to get out of bed. The brunette hated lying in bed just for the sake of staying in bed, now that she had nobody to stay in bed with. Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, hoping that she could possibly get back to sleep but as soon as her lids shut out the little light that was in her room, she saw them. She saw those eyes that she was worried about seeing again; the eyes that bore down into her as if they were judging her from the inside out. The brunette shivered. Draco Malfoy's eyes flashed in her mind's eye and that seemed to be the deciding factor for her and she threw the covers off of her lower body.

_And he had to get into my head, didn't he? Typical Malfoy. _Hermione narrowed her eyes, hoping he could feel the burn of her gaze. _Why did he have to look so- so haggard? _Hermione cursed herself silently before she could get a chance to feel sorry for Draco and attempted to push him out of her head completely. It worked almost immediately and she was grateful for that.

She sighed quietly as she sat up in bed and dangled her feet off the edge. Hermione pulled her bundle of hair back into an elastic band before getting up and moving towards the window and putting her slippers on in one fell swoop. On her way, she grabbed her wand off of her tall dresser and put it through her pony tail. She had done so every morning since Hogwarts, and sometimes throughout the day as well; she found it the best way to keep track of it when it was not in her pocket. Not to mention it kept her hair under wraps just a bit more than usual.

Hermione approached the window within moments and opened the latch to allow the pane of glass to swing inwards. The owls hooted thankfully and hopped into the bedroom, making their way to Sebastian's perch quickly. Now that they were inside, the two owls seems slightly more patient as Hermione made her way to a tray of treats she kept for her snowy owl. She approached the large, brown Ministry owl first, offering a treat she carried as she took the letter he offered to her. As soon as the owl was satisfied, it squeaked and spread its wings and flew off out the window; Hermione assumed back to the Owlery. With one letter in her hand, she moved over slightly offering the smaller, white and brown owl a treat as she took the letter it had for her.

The small owl did not take off as the other one had, so Hermione realized quickly that it had been given instructions to await a response from Hermione. She left the owl on Sebastian's perch as she moved toward the kitchen. With one last peek into her bedroom, Hermione noticed the owl tuck its head into its left wing and she decided to take her time so that the animal could rest.

With both letters in hand, Hermione made her way to the kitchen and she rubbed her eyes with her empty hand as she attempted to free her mind of the previous night's sleep. As Hermione passed the kitchen table towards the coffee maker with sleepy determination she threw the two letters onto the surface so that she had both hands to work with. The brunette had always liked doing things the muggle way, as a witch when everything could be simple and instant she loved the way it helped calm her and bring her back down to earth. Even after fourteen years of knowing she was a witch, sometimes it all seemed like a dream, like one day she would wake up and she would be eleven once again waiting for the New Year at her public school to start. The day had never come, and for that Hermione was thankful. After finishing the preparation of the coffee, Hermione grabbed her wand from her hair and gave the machine a tap, helping the maker produce the coffee that she so desired a bit move a bit faster.

After fixing her coffee just the way she liked it in her overly large mug, Hermione moved slowly to the kitchen window. The brunette tugged on the light blue fabric of the drapes and they opened to a scene that she loved a little more every time she saw it. Hermione took a small, hesitant sip of her coffee –careful not to burn herself- and watched the sun began to colour the sky with a simple line of orange on the far horizon. Obviously the sun, much unlike her, was a late sleeper and decided to take its time. Hermione knew that the sun would be fully awake in little time so she decided, with one last glance out the window, that it was time to begin the day without the sun's blessing. After all, life must go on.

From her usual spot at the kitchen table, Hermione looked up after placing her coffee mug down, she could see the ever growing glow of orange and she smiled lightly. The view was the reason that she had not-so-silently claimed it the first morning that her and Ron had been in the cottage. They had stayed up all night unpacking the muggle way, much to Ron's dismay, and the sun had greeted them kindly.

A small sigh escaped the brunette as she brought the coffee cup to her lips and found herself relieved when it had cooled enough to take a larger sip; caffeine was her best friend just then, the previous night had no doubt taken a toll on her- not unlike the previous two years. It wasn't as if Hermione was a stranger to sleepless nights. Not in the slightest.

The woman's sleepy eyes looked around her kitchen for what seemed the first time in months; possibly even years. Sure, she had looked at it but she wasn't sure that she had actually seen it. Autopilot sometimes did that to Hermione and a sad smile appeared on her face as she took in her surroundings.

The small, round mahogany kitchen table sat in front of her, she had opted not to get table cloths for it because both she and Ron had liked the look of the wood. She sat on one of the four matching chairs that sat around the table looking as empty as she felt. Quickly she looked away, hoping she could abate the oncoming tears with a change of scenery. The small kitchen boasted white cabinets and a pale blue colour on the walls, not unlike the slightly darker drapes she had pulled back not more than a few minutes previous, and a dark wood floor similar to the table she sat at.

It was a simple country kitchen, and that was what Hermione liked about it. The appliances were old fashioned; a small white gas range stove, vintage fridge in a powder blue, old farm house sink below the large window. It was the character that had made her fall in love with the house. The soft grey counter tops slid in a U shape from the back wall out to the middle of the room, fortunately there had been enough room for them both to move around it. Not that it had mattered either way; Ron never used anything in their kitchen properly, the muggle way.

Just past the arm of the U that intersected the middle of the room was a pair of glass paned doors that lead out to the rolling fields that served as her backyard. Without thinking, Hermione moved towards the doors and pulled the shades up, filling the room with a bit more light than it had previously. The sun had finally decided to make an appearance, as she could see a tiny sliver of the orange orb over the hill straight in front of her. With another small sigh, Hermione moved herself back to her spot at the table and looked at the two letters that were waiting patiently for her to open them. Hermione shook her head and grabbed for her coffee once more, with her eyes planted firmly on the window as she watched the sun rise. For once in her life, Hermione chose not to be punctual, she felt almost liberated. Almost.

She brought the oversized mug to her lips, took a generous swig and watched as - what some would call - a beautiful scene unfolded just outside her window. She knew the feeling would subside eventually so she enjoyed it as long as it would let her.

A few seconds ticked by, Hermione measured by the faint but ever present ticking of her living room clock, and slowly lowered her eyes from the ever growing sliver of sun. Her honey brown eyes settled on the two letters in front of her. One was large and brown, the parchment looked thick and there was a ministry seal that she could see since the letter had landed upside down. The other was smaller and looked lighter. The envelope was crisp and white, almost blindingly so, and it had a medium blue wax seal that had something she did not recognize represented on it.

Hermione clicked her tongue a couple of times as her eyes moved from one to the other and back again. It was a hard choice, and for the second time in her life –and that day- Hermione chose the less official looking of the two so she could put off work for at least one more moment.

Upon closer inspection of the crisp white envelope's seal, Hermione could see that it was an animal of some sort but the wax had curled in on itself slightly making it near impossible to identify what it was exactly. Only a moment after the seal had been broken, Hermione dropped the thick envelope onto the table with a small gasp.

From inside the envelope she heard small cheers and applause followed by a slow wedding march. Curious, Hermione picked up the envelope once more and finished opening it. The wedding march died down and the cheers erupted again as a bunch of confetti bits threw themselves at the brunette. Hermione could not help but smile a little bit as the pieces of paper fluttered down towards the floor, some catching in her hair and the rest finally stopping on the table. Hermione's eyes narrowed as she grabbed a small pinch of the paper and realized that they were little animal cut outs; lions and ravens, to be precise. The ravens were a bronze colour, and the lions gold and immediately Hermione got the reference to the Hogwarts houses; what she did not get, however, was who was getting married. The woman racked her brain attempting to recall any of her Ravenclaw friends and Gryffindor friends who had showed interest in each other.

Slowly, Hermione pulled the double thick parchment out of the singing envelope which finally stopped making noise. Another small gasp emerged from the woman's lips as her mind slowly realized what the -clearly charmed- invitation was telling her.

_YOU'RE INVITED! _

_Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood wish for your presence on the day of their wedding._

The bold lettering gave way to show a moving picture of Hermione's old friends waving and smiling up at her from their little place in the invitation. It seemed as if they were sharing a joke, and then the picture version of her friends kissed. The brunette couldn't help by smile to herself as she watched the picture fade and more words appear. She tried reading the words but soon felt the familiar sting of tears behind her eyes. Hermione's vision slowly blurred and for a moment she attempted to bite back the tears that would soon wash over her freckled cheeks.

"I didn't even know they were together."Hermione scolded herself out loud in her lonely kitchen, her voice almost as watery as her eyes. Quickly enough, her vision blurred seemingly beyond repair and within an instant she went blind to the world.

* * *

People bustled about with their daily lives, seemingly blissfully unaware of the tourist couple that found themselves amongst the finest shops and individual grocers that Paris had to offer. Hermione was grateful for Ron who had quite obviously found a lunch bistro well off the beaten path of the other tourists, hopefully so she would have the feel for the real Paris before they left. Hand in hand, the brunette and redhead made their way slowly down the cobblestone pedestrian street towards the bistro, neither of them had any reason to worry or rush. For once in their lives they had a chance to relax, and both of them planned to enjoy it; armed with light smiles on their faces as they passed multitudes of people.

Neither of them spoke, Hermione was comfortable in the silence and Ron seemed content with the fact that Hermione was happy. After a few more moments, the pedestrian street came to an end with the flourish of a public garden. They entered willingly, unable to resist the charm of the waist high wrought iron gate with the shrubs on either side. As they entered, a throng of smells hit them in the face, almost welcoming into the garden. Hermione was glad that it wasn't over powering. They continued walking and soon found themselves sitting on a bench with the warm sun caressing their backs. Hermione breathed a small sigh of happiness, a smile playing at her lips, as people passed them by.

"Hermione?" Ron's voice broke the comfortable silence between them. It was the first time that either had spoken since leaving the hotel, and if he had not been holding her hand she might have forgotten of his presence with all of the thoughts rolling around in her head as she took in the sights and sounds of the little Paris park.

"Yes, Ron?" She turned her freckled face towards her boyfriend, a light smile playing at her lips still.

Ron seemed to be arguing with himself, in some sort of inner monologue, because his face displayed multiple emotions so quickly that Hermione did not have a chance to decipher them before he spoke again.

"Never mind." His quite voice rang out after a moment, his face broke into a smile and he squeezed the hand that was interlocked with his own. Ron placed a light kiss upon her cheek before returning his attention to the garden before him. Hermione, pleased with what had transpired, returned the small squeeze before resting her head on one of his broad shoulders.

* * *

A strangled cry brought the brunette back to her kitchen after only a few short minutes of blind sobbing. Hermione's eyes finally cleared and she swiped the back of her hand roughly over her face to dry the tears away. With a final sniff she continued reading the wedding invitation, silently scolding herself for crying on such a happy occasion.

_I will not think of him. This is a happy occasion and I will not ruin it for my friends, whether they are here or not._ The woman thought to herself as she wiped at her cheeks again, clearing the remaining streaks from her face.

_The wedding will be taking place at the Lovegood family home on September Fifth._

_Celebrations will begin promptly at seven minutes passed noon and will continue into the night._

_Please send your RSVP with the owl provided as soon as possible._

With the words, there came a small box near the bottom of the invitation. It was a simple yes or no check box; Hermione checked the yes with tearful eyes and sniffled slightly once more. Before she knew it, she was up and moving toward her bedroom to the small bird awaiting her invitation. With one last look at the card in her hand, Hermione noticed something that was not there only moments previous. At the very bottom of the crisp invitation, in nearly illegible fine print, Hermione made out a few words:

_The bride and groom wish that everyone enjoy their time of celebration, therefore guests should note that they will be checked for Wrackspurts at the door._

The sentence made Hermione laugh out loud despite her previous mood, causing the little bird to ruffle its feathers and look at her as if she was crazy. As the owl flew off, Hermione was still laughing and continued to do so while showering. Harry and Ginny would have been pleased, and Hermione couldn't help but be pleased with herself as well. It had been far too long since she had enjoyed a good laugh. The brunette was still chuckling to herself, with a large smile plastered on her face, as she turned on the spot and apparated to work for an uneventful Thursday.

* * *

**PS: I know I can be a bit wordy with my descriptions, and I promise you that I'm working on it for the next chapters.**


End file.
